The thoughts in my pointy little head.

So, maybe it wasn’t retirement but a sabbatical? Or, how about this, The first breakup never lasts? Regardless, since shutting this journal down (journal–not the right word, but close) two months ago, I’ve been thinking a good bit about what I was doing here and why I was doing it. It was on this morning’s walk–the sun coming up, patches of snow here and there, Lucy running about fancy free and then my first robin of (dare I say it?) spring–it was on this morning’s walk that I realized how much I miss the venue. What did I miss?

First, while writing this blog (God, I hate that word, blog, it is ugly, overused and common.) I paid more attention–more attention to life, to nature, to the books I was reading and the thoughts that were coursing through my pointy little head.

Secondly, and obviously, the discipline of the writing kept me on a course, albeit a meandering course, of discovery. It was an outlet, a place to exercise a notion or two about whatever was going on at the moment. Without that discipline I’m more inclined to glide along like the dumb-ass mother nature made of me. (Who cannot resist the temptation for self-improvement?)

Too, I quit the writing here because I wanted to save up the writing energy for other projects. That still concerns me, there being only so much time and energy in a day. The net effect, however, seems that the other writing comes and goes regardless of what I do here–or don’t do.

Lastly, I missed the little community of this place. We were a nice group, good-looking enough, demographically all over the board, a hearty group with brio and a penchant for interesting conversation. That community, whether real or virtual, served up a sense of place and I miss that.

So, here goes, gonna give it another go.

__________________________

One of the things I’ve learned during this hiatus is the value of an understood purpose. That is, as it pertains to this journal, having a surer path, a sense of definition. What’s it about? And for you, dear reader, whiling away a fraction of your finite mortality here, why visit this place?

The answer lies in a question, my personal BIG question, the one I’ve been asking myself since my eighth birthday (I’ll share that story in a future posting): How should I live my life?

The lesser question is: what are the themes and vehicles with which to tackle the big question? (Remember Socrates’s observation that the unexamined life is not worth living? Well, how does one do that? How do you examine a life such as to make it more worthy?)

It boils down to a small handful of themes and that’s the stuff I want to spend time on here:

Reading and writing

Nature and the out-of-doors

Groundbreakers: Thinkers, troublemakers & adventurers

(Thank you, Susan. Your comments this past week made all this jell. (If you’ve ever wondered: Is it jell or gell, check here.))